


Lead Us Not Into Temptation

by JotaroVapes (radioaction)



Series: Fire Emblem 3 Houses Kinkmeme Fills [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Bottom Ferdinand von Aegir, Brainwashing, Canon-Typical Violence, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Facials, Gaslighting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scents & Smells, Top Hubert von Vestra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24712267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioaction/pseuds/JotaroVapes
Summary: What he was considering was without question, a crime. A heinous, inexcusable, and loathsome crime.Throughout his lifetime, Hubert committed many questionable and criminal acts, but only to enemies of Lady Edelgard. Only to those who well deserved the suffering he inflicted upon them. In cases of cruelty for the good of his country and its future Emperor, any action was necessary. The lesser of the two evils would always be Hubert.Until now, that is, as he inspects the vial of a clear liquid that he held between his gloved hands.From the fe3h kinkmeme:“If pre-ts: Hubert hates how attracted he is to Ferdinand and laces his tea with a sleeping draught and comes into his room ones Ferdie's asleep. Bonus for self-loathing, bonus for victim-blamingIf post-ts: Hubert doesn't believe he has a chance with Ferdinand and a similar situation to above arises but with more emotional pining. Bonus for more self-loathing, bonus for kissingExtra extra bonus if post-ts implies or explicitly states pre-ts situation happened and perhaps even became a habit”
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Fire Emblem 3 Houses Kinkmeme Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793341
Comments: 37
Kudos: 197





	1. A Line Crossed

**Author's Note:**

> I joined dreamwidth just to fill this prompt. The additional bonuses for the prompt will be fulfilled in the next few chapters. 
> 
> TW for non-con sex, basically date rape w/some gaslighting for flavor.

What he was considering was without question, a crime. A heinous, inexcusable, and loathsome crime. 

Throughout his lifetime, Hubert committed many questionable and criminal acts, but only to enemies of Lady Edelgard. Only to those who well deserved the suffering he inflicted upon them. In cases of cruelty for the good of his country and its future Emperor, any action was necessary. The lesser of the two evils would always be Hubert. 

Until now, that is, as he inspects the vial of a clear liquid that he held between his gloved hands. The moment he found the instructions for this diabolical elixir while sifting through the hundreds of texts in the library, he knew he would be unable to resist the temptation. 

Temptation. He once thought of himself above such things. Hubert Von Vestra was in control of his base, human desires. That is what he believed.

Then slowly, slowly, he let the ever-noble Ferdinand von Aegir seep past his carefully laid defenses. His constant vying for attention, his sharp tongue, and ever prattling mouth had cast some sort of spell upon him. Once he regarded the flame-haired youth as an infuriating and unavoidable nuisance. His voice was one that he desperately wanted to get rid of, but due to his future role in their plans, Hubert was forbidden to silence him. 

Now, despite still being an infuriating nuisance, Hubert found himself seeking out his voice more and more often than not. The silence that hung about him when Ferdinand was not there was more aggravating than their bickering ever could be. Could he even call what they did, “bickering”? More often than not, Hubert found himself feeling playful more than anything when they spoke. His thoughts wandered to what happened earlier that day. 

\---

“It’s growing quite long, “ He said, looking over at him from the other side of the horse that they had both been tasked to care for that week. Ferdinand had glanced at him with a puzzled look. Hubert gestured to his own hair, making Ferdinand’s eyes light with recognition. “Oh! I suppose it has. Ever the observant one, aren’t you?” Ferdinand smirked, running the brush through the stallion’s coat as he smoothed the brambles and leaves from its fur. 

“Always. Nothing gets past these eyes.” He said with the utmost sincerity. Ferdinand’s expression blanched, then a cheery laugh escaped his lips. It was not intended to be a joke, but Hubert allowed himself to chuckle as well. He knelt down, tapping the back of the horse’s leg to have it lift it up so he can clean its hooves. While he hated this task, hated the smell of the beasts and the heat and the mud... he found himself not hating it as much as he once did. The company helped a great deal. 

“Wouldn’t you say it’s time for a cut?” He had asked, as he methodically used the hoof pick to clear away the mud, rocks and straw. 

“I was thinking actually of growing it out,” Ferdinand replied, moving to brush down the other side of the horse coat. Now Hubert could see all of him, and he wished to see more and none all at once. 

Ferdinand was wearing his summer uniform, a white, flowy button-up dress shirt with tan slacks. It was already marred with mud, straw and gods know what else. Even as filthy as he was, Hubert found himself wanting to get closer to him. His eyes watched errant drops of sweat bead on his forehead, then travel down his face and down the length of his pale neck. The sweat disappeared, obscured by his shirt collar. He envied the clothes that Ferdinand wore. Only they could know the heat of his skin and the slick of his sweat. 

Hubert swallowed, thickly. 

_Flames._

He smiled wryly, attempting to ward away these inappropriate thoughts lest he appears aroused by the act of taking care of barn animals. “Another attempt to best Lady Edelagrd? You’d go so far as to grow your hair longer than hers?” 

To that, Ferdinand reacted with indignation. “I’ll have you know that I am capable of acting outside of her influence, Hubert. Perhaps I tire from keeping the world from gazing upon my illustrious mane any longer? It would be a shame to keep it coiffed and confined to a few inches.” He made a show of running his slender fingers through his sunny orange hair. The sun danced against its shine. 

Hubert pried his eyes away, shaking his head. “A shame indeed.” He agreed. If Ferdinand had noticed the red color spearing across his face, he hadn’t indicated so. Even if he had, Hubert would have attributed it to a light sunburn. 

\---

Moments like that were happening more and more frequently. The discovery of the recipe, coupled with an already warped mind, left him where he was at this moment. He stood over the table set for tea and coffee for two, his hands trembling slightly as he uncorked the vial. It was nearly odorless and confirmed to be tasteless. He had experimented on himself the night before; only a drop left him drowsy and after a few minutes he had slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep. 

It only lasted an hour at most, but with more drops…

As the tea steeped he tilted the vial carefully and watched as one by one the elixir dripped into the cup. 

Four drops, he counted them. 

It took many hours of calculations to determine exactly how much was needed for someone of Ferdinand’s height and weight. He was careful to be precise. It was the first time he had ever tried to not poison someone, he thought grimly. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of sharp footsteps growing louder as they entered the courtyard. Quickly, Hubert sealed the vial and pocketed it before pouring the tea into Ferdinand’s cup. The citrusy, fruity smell of the tea masked any identifiable odors that the elixir exuded. 

“Ah, what is that I smell? Orange, lemon, apple, an oddly nostalgic aroma… Did you brew me the Southern Fruit blend?” Ferdinand knew he had done just that, but he still asked as if he was surprised. They had shared tea time together many times before. Still, the fondness in Ferdinand's voice when he asked was not unpleasant at all. He would suffer repeating himself again and again just to hear it.

“I did.” He said with a small smile, imperceivable to anyone who wasn’t accustomed to reading his microexpressions. After serving as each other’s adjutant for many a battle, Ferdinand could read his quite fluently. The noble Von Aegir took a seat at the garden table, accepting the cup with graciousness. 

It was late in the evening, hardly their usual tea time. However, after a particularly long and busy day, sometimes the night was the only option for their now weekly conversations over hot beverages. Even in the summer, Ferdinand took his tea hot, scoffing at any notion of adding ice to his precious drink. Hubert on the other hand was content to switch to iced coffee in the warmer months.

Now as he sat across from Ferdinand, he sipped at his cup, letting the cool beverage sit on his tongue before swallowing. Caffeine didn’t bother him even late into the night. Even if it did, he wasn’t planning on sleeping for a long, long time. 

Ferdinand’s hair was still wet from his bath, and he wore his usual academy clothes though the jacket was open. The dress shirt underneath was undone by three buttons, a scandalous sight. Hubert’s chest tightened as he felt a warmth flutter through him. It was like he was asking to be ravished by Hubert’s gaze. 

While Ferdinand spoke of the day’s events that Hubert was not privy to, he watched with anticipation. Each sip that the other took drained the cup more and more. Luckily, Ferdinand was too self-absorbed in his own conversation to notice how little he was paying attention to his words. It was so subtle. The curve of Ferdinand’s shoulders lowered as his body began to relax. The shift in his seat to lean back in his chair. Ferdinand stretched his foot out under his chair, only a few inches from nudging against Hubert's leg. 

“..and dinner was of course excellent. It’s a shame that you refuse to accept the invitations from the professor when pheasant is being served.” Ferdinand continued, taking another drink as the muscles in his face started to relax. Hubert watched his eyelids start to grow heavy. His heart was thrumming in his ears, quickening. 

“The pheasant is not what dentures me, it is the sickeningly sweet berry sauce that they drown the damned bird in.” He remarked, maintaining his cool and collected demeanor the best he could. It seemed to work, as Ferdinand appeared to not yet to notice anything unusual. 

Ferdinand rolled his eyes, then leaned forward in his seat to rest his elbow on the table. The teacup dangled from his grasp. “Of course, anything sweet repulses you. I had nearly...forgotten…” He held his other hand up to his mouth as he yawned, eyes tightly closed as his jaw stretched to inhale as much air as possible. Hubert’s breath stilled, his eyes studying Ferdinand with rapt attention. 

Looking at Hubert, Ferdinand tried to blink away the sleep at his eyes. With sleep at his eyes, for a moment his expression twisted into puzzlement. “Mm.. so sleepy...suddenly.” The words sounded heavy on his tongue, and no sooner had he said them did his eyes fall shut; his body slack. 

Hubert quickly reached over and caught the cup from falling from Ferdinand’s hand and he poured out what little remained before he placed it gently back on the table. He stepped over Ferdinand’s outstretched leg and hooked his arm around his body, pulling him to sit up in his seat. “Ferdinand?” He called, softly. In his arms Ferdinand leaned against him, breathing slow. His mouth parted slightly as his head lolled to gently press into the crook of Hubert’s neck. Hubert swallowed, feeling his nose brush against his Adam's apple. 

With practiced movements he hooked his other arm under the bend of Ferdinan’s knees and pulled him close to his chest, lifting him up and carrying him inside. His heart thundered behind his ribcage. 

\---

The trip back to his dorm was longer than expected, but he was prepared to answer any questioning guard, monk, professor, or classmate. Ferdinand simply had had too much to drink, and Hubert was kind enough to bring him back to his rooms to sleep it off. The few times he was questioned, the interrogator had smiled, remarking on how thoughtful and kind Hubert was to take care of his friend like that.

Thoughtful. 

_Kind._

His stomach lurched with those words. They twisted into his gut like rusted blades. He was not a thoughtful nor a kind man. Not tonight.

When they arrived at Ferdinand’s room he struggled for a moment to find his key. Ferdinand had it tucked in his breast pocket, which explained the slight dig into Hubert’s chest when he held him close. Once he had the door unlocked he pushed it open with his shoulder and closed it with his boot. 

He locked the door. 

Like anything to do with Ferdinand, his room was lavish - any luxury could be afforded for the great von Aegir prodigy. Hubert stalked over to the bed, adorned with a garish bedspread and far too many pillows to be necessary. He had to push several of them off to even lay the man out properly. 

Once he did, he stood back and admired the scene before him. Ferdinand slept, his left arm curled above his head and his right draped over his chest, legs limp as they dangled over the edge of the mattress. The epitome of relaxation. Hubert’s breath caught in his throat when Ferdinand turned his head in his sleep. 

It wasn’t too late. He could leave now. 

He knew this as he started to take off his own clothes, shrugging his jacket off, and unbuttoning his dress shirt. The room was stifling hot. Was it the summer night or his own constitution that left him already starting to sweat. With impatience, he kicked off his boots after half-heartedly untying them, left only in his small clothes as he approached the bed once more. 

When Hubert kneeled to rid Ferdinand of his boots, he unlaced them with care and slipped them off his feet. He rolled down each of his socks, tucking them into one of his shoes before he stood up and reached for the waistband of Ferdinand’s slacks. His hands shook terribly as he unclasped the buttons, trying to avoid any lingering touches to what lay underneath the clothes. First, he wanted to see him. All of him. 

With deft fingers he untied the cord of Ferdinand’s braies, then he hooked his fingers under the hem of his trousers and slowly slid them off. Each inch revealed more than he could have dreamed. Smooth, pale muscular thighs. Sculpted calves dusted with fair hair. Hubert pulled his glove off with his teeth and let out a shuddering sigh as he ran his naked hand up the length of Ferdinand's leg. He followed the curve of his thigh to where it met his hip. He finally dared to look at Ferdinand’s exposed cock, resting against his thigh. It left him breathless. His own cock perked up at the sight, and he had to still himself from reaching out to take it in his hand. 

Or his mouth, he thought, as he swallowed back the salivation that had gathered since he first started to undress his classmate. There would be time for that, he reminded himself. 

To continue he had to climb into the bed himself. Ferdinand didn’t stir as he sunk his knee into the mattress and pulled himself up. Kneeling beside him he reached over and pulled the jacket fully from Ferdinand’s shoulders, tossing it unceremoniously off the side of the bed. Instead of unbuttoning his shirt, he opted to pull it up and over his head, carefully moving Ferdinand 's arms so that they didn’t catch as he did so. 

Leaning over him, Hubert felt his face heat with a blush that no doubt traveled from his neck to the tips of his ears. Ferdinand was beautiful. If gods or angels existed, surely one was laid out before him now. He watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, how the candlelight danced across every inch of his exposed, sun-kissed skin. He shivered as he daringly reached out and smoothed his hand across Ferdinand’s chest, his breath catching as he felt the muscles ripple and dance under his touch. He lovingly admired the stretch of his stomach and the subtle dip of his pelvis. 

Ferdinand shifted minutely, but his eyes remained closed, his breath steady. 

There was still time to turn back. He could get dressed, leave the key in his hand, close the door behind him, and go back to his room. In the morning Ferdinand would greet him, ask him what happened. He could craft a believable lie. Perhaps they decided to celebrate a busy week with something far stronger than tea or coffee. In the moment Ferdinand had underestimated the strength of the wine and Hubert had helped him so dutifully to go back to his room. The heat from the liquor had prompted Ferdinand to stript, long after Hubert had left. He could craft a wonderfully chaste story of a night-not-remembered for Ferdinand. 

Instead, he leaned down and pressed a tender, soft kiss to Ferdinand’s lips. His mouth parted easily as Hubert gently tilted his head back, his hand at the nape of Ferdinand’s neck. His lips were soft, slightly chapped, and pliant under his own. With courage, he gently took his lower lip between his teeth and sucked before pulling away. Ferdinand’s warm breath on his face didn’t change, his eyes stayed closed, his mouth still agape. 

Hubert licked his lips, then slid back off the bed and untied the cord from his now very uncomfortable smallclothes and stepped out of them. With some careful maneuvering, he moved Ferdinand so he was lengthwise on the bed, his head and back propped up on some of the many available pillows. He climbed back into bed, not before grabbing a kerchief and the vial from his jacket pocket. He set them both on a pillow nearby, then settled himself between Ferdinand’s thighs. He leaned down and kissed the crook of his neck and breathed in his scent. The faint smell of soap and sweat blessed him as he caressed and touched every part of Ferdinand he could reach. His fingernails dragged across his thigh as he cupped his other hand around the curve of Ferdinand’s pectoral muscle. He ran his thumb across his nipple, then he dipped his head to lave his tongue over it. With an experimental suck, he felt it slowly harden between his lips. 

Now his ministrations were starting to affect Ferdinand. He caught the small change of breathing, felt Ferdinand twitch underneath him as he licked and sucked lovingly at his chest. After thoroughly abusing his left nipple he moved to the right and gave it the same care. His hands moved to hold Ferdinand’s waist, then slid down to squeeze the curve of his ass. At that he heard Ferdinand softly sigh underneath him, his legs falling open and spread under him. 

Something in his brain was short-circuited. Hubert lifted his head, a thin string of saliva still clinging desperately to Ferdinand’s pert nipple. Looking down at him now, all he could see was an invitation. When Hubert’s mouth left him, Ferdinand’s brow furrowed, his mouth slightly downturned. An expression Hubert could only describe as disappointment. Hubert’s cock twitched with need against Ferdinand’s thigh, drops of precum smearing against his skin. 

Hubert’s mouth watered as his eyes traveled down the body splayed before him. Between those two powerful thighs, he could see Ferdinan’s cock was beginning to stir. He reached down and gently took hold of him, stroking him with feather-light touches. 

The muscles in Ferdinand’s thighs twitched. Hubert licked his lips as he watched a blush slowly appear on his cheeks and neck. His breathing quickened as he was slowly stroked by Hubert’s slender fingers until he was half hard. While Hubert was no stranger to touching himself, touching someone else in this way was completely new to him. He wondered if it was the same for the other. Or had Ferdinand already experienced this before? The very thought left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Before he could entertain it further he leaned back down and took one of Ferdinan’s nipples back in his mouth again, lolling it with his tongue as he gently teased Ferdinand's cock to full hardness. 

Under him, he could hear each shuddering breath and sigh that Ferdinand made as he pleasured him. Every so often his hips would buck, chest rising and falling a little faster with time. When he finally coaxed a soft moan from Ferdinand’s mouth, Hubert abandoned his chest and captured his lips in a hungry kiss. He gathered the small pool of precum leaking from Ferdinand’s cock in his fingers and slicked his shaft, brushing his fingertips again and again over his weeping cockhead. Each moan that escaped his lips was devoured by Hubert’s as he licked into his mouth. He sucked his tongue as he pulled away, kissing the corner of his mouth as he felt Ferdinand twitch in his hand. 

“Ferdinand,” He gasped, now kissing the curve of his collarbone as he listened to his classmate’s soft gasp under his touch. “Ferdie…” He tried the nickname, which felt so sweet on his tongue. Ferdinand didn’t answer, his expression almost pained as Hubert brought him closer to the precipice of orgasm. Oh, if only he was brave enough to call him by that name when he was awake. If only he could see his eyes and hear his own name from those rosy, kiss swollen lips. Hubert tilted Ferdinand’s head forward and kissed him once more as he felt Ferdinan’s cock pulse between his fingers. He came in Huberts hand with a small cry, his eyes fluttering open. 

Hubert froze, his hand stilled. 

Ferdinand’s gaze was clouded with sleep. There was no recognition or sign of consciousness as they looked right through Hubert before falling closed once more. Hubert released the breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding. His hand was slick with his classmate’s cum, the rest cooling on his stomach. Hubert was still painfully hard. So caught up in making Ferdinand come that he had forgotten to take care of himself. He cursed. He wanted to come together. However, looking at Ferdinand, sweaty, panting, his head tilted back and mouth slack, Hubert had an idea. 

He repositioned himself, kneeling beside Ferdinand’s head, slicking his cock with the other’s cum. He coaxed Ferdinand’s mouth open with his thumb and stroked himself. His face felt hot. The unsuspecting, Ferdinand von Aegir patiently waited for him to come into his open mouth. When he came he had to bite back a moan from escaping him. He watched as hot droplets of cum painted those lovely lips. He felt Ferdinand’s breath against his pulsing cock, making him whimper. The orgasm left him twitching, and he watched his cum pool in the back of Ferdinand’s mouth. He softly ran his fingers over Ferdinand’s throat and watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed it all. 

\----

That night Hubert didn’t sleep. After committing his grave sin, he had cleaned up his mess, tucked Ferdinand into bed, got dressed, and left. Instead of returning to his room, he walked the monastery grounds. It was late. The cathedral’s shadow loomed over him in the moonlight. It was his judge and jury. He wished it would fall around him and crush him. The most despicable of criminals, a rapist. Surely if a god did exist, then they cared not for people like Ferdinand. A loving god would have protected him from Hubert. A just god would have killed Hubert before he poured the tea. 

When he stopped he found himself standing on the bridge. The warm summer wind kicked up around him, and above he saw the moon peaking just behind the church’s proud steeple. He found himself leaning against the stone railing, holding his head in his hands. It was a terrible, terrible thing, to make a monster like him fall in love with someone so trusting as Ferdinand. 

A sob caught in his chest as he reached into his jacket pocket and grasped the vial in his hand. Looking down from the bridge he set his jaw and prepared to fling the cursed vial over the edge. He would burn that recipe, he would throw away the ingredients. He would turn himself in and pray that Lady Edelgard would allow him to serve her. Even if it meant that he stayed in the shadows for the rest of his life. His hand lingered, suspended in the air. It clutched the vial like it was a precious vulnerary and not the catalyst of his depravity. He couldn’t bring himself to let it go. 

A voice broke him from his thoughts. “You there. Are you alright?” 

Someone was approaching. Hubert tucked the vial back into his pocket as he turned to the guard who walked towards him. The ever dutiful night-watch, making their rounds. Keeping them safe. Hubert offered them a bow, “I was just enjoying the night air.” 

The guard studied him, then recognized him as one of the students. “It’s past curfew. You should head back to your room.” After a moment, they pressed, “Shall I escort you?” 

This was it. He could confess, here and now. 

Instead, he shook his head and gave the guard another bow as he made his leave. “Not necessary.” Hubert bid the guard a good night and walked back to his dorm as promised. The vial weighed heavily in his pocket. 

\---

The next morning Hubert was sitting at his writing desk in his own room, working on plans that he knew wouldn’t be needed for many moons. He tried to keep himself busy, unable to sleep. Morning light seeped through the window curtains. Sounds of people rousing from their beds greeted his ears. A monastery coming to life. He waited. 

An hour later he heard the knock as his door. With weak knees Hubert stood from his desk, legs growing heavy with every step. He closed his eyes, hand resting on the doorknob. A deep breath to ground himself. When the knock came again he opened the door, looking down at Ferdinand before him. His hand was still up, mid knock. 

“Hubert, I…” He stopped, then cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “Ahem. Sorry, good morning, I mean.” As ever, the man was determined to follow proper etiquette. Even now. Hubert’s chest ached. He wanted to avoid his gaze, but to do so would only arouse suspicion. He sighed, giving Ferdinand a small nod, “Good morning, Ferdinand. To what do I owe this pleasure?” He asked, hoping his eyes didn’t betray him.

He didn’t seem to notice Hubert’s grief, and if he did he did not let on. Instead, it was Ferdinand who was looking at him with guilt lining his features. “Hubert… Last night…” He trailed off. Hubert felt like screaming. 

_He knows._

He feigned sudden realization, tilting his head. “Ah, yes. I don’t suppose you remember. Last night we continued our discussion over some wine you had stashed away. Something about the warm air made you so nostalgic, you talked so much it's a wonder I can hear anything at all.” He glowered at Ferdinand. The man shrunk under his gaze. 

**Monster.**

“Oh, dear… I must confess I have no recollection of any of that.” Ferdinand worried his lip, and Hubert could see him trying desperately to remember what had never happened. When nothing came of it, Ferdinand bowed to him, his ears tinged red with embarrassment. “That is most unbecoming behavior for a noble. Please accept my apology, Hubert. “

Was he dreaming? He wondered if Ferdinand was joking, but there was nothing but sincerity in his words. His plan had perfectly followed through. He was without suspicion. Hubert huffed, but his mouth quirked up into a smile. “Apology accepted. See it doesn't happen again, I’m not one for drunk conversation.” 

“Of course.” Ferdinand agreed, looking relieved. _Relieved._

After a moment of awkward, empty conversation, Ferdinand bid him a good day and offered to make it up to him later. Hubert dismissed him with a wave of his hand. When the man left his eyesight he slowly closed his door, locked it, and leaned against the wood. He stared down at his feet, sweat beading on his face. 

Hubert couldn’t believe this was happening, nor could he believe what he had said. He made Ferdinand...apologize. After all that had happened. The knowledge made him sick, To his horror, the sickness turned into something else. Something broke inside of him.

His mouth twisted into a disgusting smirk. He had gotten away with it. Perverse joy radiated throughout his chest. Without thinking his hands moved on their own. He quickly unfastened his trousers and took hold of himself in his hand. His other hand pressed against his mouth. His bit on his knuckles as the night's events replayed in his mind. A low moan escaped him. The smell of Ferdinand against his skin. The sound of his gasps and moans, their memory made him shiver. Ferdinand’s cock pulsing from his touch, he remembered it so vividly. He relished the blissed-out look in Ferdinand's eyes. Hubert jerked violently as he came in his hand, shivering with overwhelming pleasure. His knees fell out from under him, and it was a miracle he had the wherewithal to brace himself. 

He panted heavily, his mind swimming from the ecstasy of it all. A smirk tugged at his lips as he chuckled to himself, biting his lower lip. The vial weighed heavy in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please look at this amazing fanart by @mogiko-yoshida!! It is so beautiful ♡ All of their art is amazing 
> 
> https://twitter.com/mogiko_yoshida/status/1272575212198846464?s=19


	2. Lies Like Sheep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every moment shared between them since was now laced with an underlying tension. A friendly touch on his shoulder was an invitation. Whenever their hands brushed against each other as he passed him a teacup, a book, a missive - It was a silent request.  
> Touch me. 
> 
> With every day he felt the desire in his chest bloom and grow. It’s vines twisted around his heart and squeezed the air from his lungs. 
> 
> The monster had already been born. When the memory of his dalliance started to lose its vividness - he crafted a new plan of action.

Once the line was crossed, Hubert made himself at home on the other side. Long gone was the notion of attainable absolution. He no longer entertained the want of forgiveness or the feelings of shame. Such things would only waste his time. Instead, he reveled in the memory of that night, replaying it in his mind nearly every day since. Every moment shared between them since was now laced with an underlying tension. A friendly touch on his shoulder was an invitation. Whenever their hands brushed against each other as he passed him a teacup, a book, a missive - It was a silent request. Touch me. With every day he felt the desire in his chest bloom and grow. It’s vines twisted around his heart and squeezed the air from his lungs. 

The monster had already been born. When the memory of his dalliance started to lose its vividness - he crafted a new plan of action. 

No longer did he bother with tea times to carry out his criminal offense. Instead, Hubert began to carefully study Ferdinand's routine. Each day he lingered in the periphery of the noble’s daily activities. From the shadows he stalked. Observed. Thankfully, the man was consistent and highly predictable. On an average day of Ferdinand von Aegir, the man would wake in the morning when the sun had barely touched the sky. He would go to the stables to take care of his beloved steed with sickeningly devoted affection. After his bath, he would travel to the dining hall for the day's breakfast. The kitchen staff laughed at his jokes and entertained his thoughts with smiles and nods. It was no wonder his ego seemed to balloon despite Hubert’s attempts to ground him in reality. 

Following a hearty meal, he would travel to the training room and perform his morning stretches. The man was flexible. Ferdinand knelt on one knee as he kept his other foot flat on the ground as if preparing to propose. He angled his hips forward, arching his back. Without care, knowing that Hubert was watching, he would let a soft groan escape him as he stretched out his thigh muscles. It was near pornographic. 

Those legs of his were truly the cavalier’s greatest weapon. Hubert made a note to worship them properly. 

Morning classes soon followed. The red-head was always ready to spark a lively discussion. It was a daily occurrence for the professor to break up a heated debate between the young lord and Lady Edelgard. Sometimes one of them would look to Hubert and ask for his opinion one way or the other - to take a side. It felt a little like being courted by two paramours. Of course, he would always take his Lady’s opinion as his own. The frustrated huff that earned, the upturn of his nose as Ferdinand pointedly ignored him was terribly endearing. Thankfully he was quick to forgive, and the grudge would be nearly forgotten by lunchtime. 

The meal was always lively; he usually dined with Dorothea, himself, or Lorenz. In the afternoon he followed the lord as he took his daily walk. Always far enough behind that his presence went unnoticed time and time again. The rest of the day was devoted to training regimens, the occasional tea break, and study. After dinner, he would spend the evenings socializing and relaxing, before retiring to his quarters around 10 pm each night. 

Hubert cataloged this information in his mind, inscribing each detail into his heart. Any deviations from the routine were scrutinized and studied until he could pinpoint the origin of their cause. For instance; He learned that if Edelgard won a tournament, Ferdinand would spend the majority of the day training. Sometimes until his legs gave out. On the morning following such a day, Ferdinand would wake an hour later than usual. Hubert reasoned that his body needed to recuperate from being pushed past the point of exhaustion. 

With this information in mind, Hubert recommended that Edelgard participates in the next lance tournament. At first, she was skeptical, but he argued that she should be ready to take up any weapon should the day come where she would be without her axe. She saw merit in his words, and he assisted her in preparing her training regimen for the event.

The day of the tournament finally came. In the final round, he had watched Ferdinand’s expression darken as he realized she would be his opponent. Their fight was thrilling, each of them dancing around each other. Both moved with graceful passion, though with each parry he saw Ferdinand lose his composure. After an unfortunate misstep, Lady Edelgard took the opportunity to drive her lance into Ferdinand’s shoulder. The blow knocked the breath from him, and he fell on his back. Defeated. Edelgard had won, as Edelgard was wont to do.

A healer tended to the ugly bruise that bloomed across his shoulder. In his eyes, he saw the fire build, his rage, and humiliation wore on his sleeve. Ferdinand refused to meet anyone’s gaze. He had no reply to their attempts to smooth over the defeat with honeyed words. Grasping tightly to what dignity remained, he left the training grounds to lick his wounds in private. 

Ferdinand wasn’t present in the dining hall. After lunch, Hubert walked across the monastery grounds and found his target. Once again he was training. With hungry eyes, he watched as Ferdinand furiously attacked a training dummy with the violence of a rabid animal. 

The dark mage took in the sight. Ferdinand moved with unbridled rage, his steps lacking the usual finesse that he carried himself with. He traced the sweat on his brow as it glided down his face. Admired the fire in his eyes, the grit of his teeth. Without speaking he properly entered the room and watched passively as the man tore apart the innocent training dummy until it was nothing but splintered wood and scraps of cloth. 

With labored breaths, Ferdinand stood over his kill, his chest heaving, and eyes wild. His red hair was disheveled like he had never seen it before. Hubert longed to run his fingers through it, to grab it in his fist and pull. Instead, he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. When Ferdinand finally took notice of his presence he tilted his head up and gave him a wry smile. “Goodness, Ferdinand. Whatever did it do to deserve such a fate?”

His teasing was met with a bitter scowl, and Hubert couldn't hide his mirth. Paying no mind to the daggers that were glared his way, he walked to a nearby table where a water jug and wooden cups were supplied. In the summer it was not uncommon for someone to pass out from heat exhaustion when training vigorously. The thoughtful gesture of the staff was appreciated by faculty and students alike. He poured Ferdinand a tall cup and walked over to him. Without a word Ferdinand accepted it as it was offered, taking long, slow gulps. Some water escaped him, trickling down the corner of his mouth, traveling down the line of his jaw. Hubert resisted the urge to lean close and lick it clean from his face. 

After drinking his fill Ferdinand wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Such brutish behavior only happened when the man was truly, truly upset. Even now his mind was somewhere far away. 

Ferdinand was deep in thought. 

Hubert tilted his head, questioningly. “Something troubling you, von Aegir?”

With a scoff, Ferdinand gave him a half-hearted glare, but his gaze softened as Hubert reached out and rested his hand on his shoulder. The tension from his body melted under his touch. 

Pressing further, he asked, “Is it about the tournament?” 

As if he hadn’t orchestrated this entire conversation, beginning to end. 

Ferdinand bristled under his touch and swatted his hand away. “She doesn’t even use a lance!” he exclaimed, his ire flaming up once again. He picked up his lance and proceeded to attack a new training dummy, stabbing and slashing at it with newfound energy. “Why did she enter? She KNEW I was participating.” He punctuated his sentences with killing blows, making quick work of destroying the new target of his frustration. Hubert couldn’t help but bite his lip, taking a sharp intake of breath as he watched the redhead viciously attack the unmoving target. “The humiliation, losing against your own classmate…” Ferdinand continued, "Why? Why her?” With a final blow, the dummy was thoroughly slain. The ever positive, ever bright Ferdinand was quite distraught now; his face red with anger, and his eyes brimming with tears. 

As much as he wanted to take him in his arms and soothe his wounded ego with whispered praise, Hubert had a part to play. He chided, “Ferdinand. There is nothing in the rules to say two people can’t compete from the same house.” The glare he received in-kind made a shiver run down his neck and back. He continued, “And there's no law against wielding multiple weapons."

Too angry to even respond, Ferdinand set his eyes on a new target. Before he could resume annihilating every dummy in the monastery, Hubert cleared his throat. That caught his attention.“You know, that applies to you as well.” His expression could only be described as mischievous gracing his usually dour face.

“What does?” Ferdinand asked, a bite to his tone that Hubert found both endearing and painful. He gestured to the training weapons that hung on the walls around the room, then walked over and removed one of the axes from its holder. He turned and looked at Ferdinand, who gave him an incredulous stare. His eyes traveled from the axe in Hubert’s hand and up to his face. 

He crossed the distance between them with gliding steps and gently took his hand and placed the axe into his palm. He curling Ferdinand's fingers to close around the handle. Even through the fabric of his gloves he could feel the heat radiating off him. A warriors pulse. “You pride yourself on being better than Lady Edelgard...” 

Hubert took the lance from Ferdinands other hand, and Ferdinand let him.

“Best her. Return the favor. That is..if you can.” His voice dipped low, nearly a whisper.

A challenge.

The other stared wide-eyed up at him as if he was suddenly cast in a brilliant spotlight without a script. Then with a wicked grin, he gripped the axe tightly in his hands.

\---

For the rest of the day and well into the night, Hubert watched and guided Ferdinand as he focused his entire being into wielding an axe. His determination to best Edelgard gave him seemingly boundless energy, and Hubert was there to stoke the flames as the hours went by. But it couldn’t last forever. Despite his valiant efforts, fatigue started to settle in the noble’s body. Hubert watched as his movements became more erratic. His response time slowed. His breathing labored. Finally, the axe fell from Ferdinand’s hands, and he fell to his knees. sweat drenching his shirt, making the thin fabric cling to his muscles in the most obscene ways. Hubert approached him once more, water in hand, and watched as he gulped down the water with gratitude. 

Hubert thumbed the vial in his pocket as Ferdinand emptied his cup, too exhausted to notice the slightly bitter odor that wafted from his drink. “Gods, I am exhausted…” Ferdinand breathed, handing the cup back to Hubert. He attempted to rise to his feet but stumbled, grabbing onto Hubert’s arm. With ease, he steadied him, wrapping his arm around him. His hand pressed against the curve of his waist, and Hubert dared to give him a gentle squeeze. “Allow me to escort you back to your quarters, lest you fall and destroy that precious face you’re so proud of.” 

With a dry laugh from his weary friend, his offer was accepted. “Please do. Thank you, Hubert.” 

“My pleasure.” 

\---

Halfway to Ferdinand's dorm Hubert felt the cavalier’s body go limp against him, and he was quick to catch him before he fell. Desire curled in the pit of his stomach as he once again scooped his prize into his arms and carried back to his room. Upon entering the familiar room his skin prickled with anticipation. Instead of revulsion, the sight of that garish bedspread ignited a fire in his loins at the memory of the last time he saw it. Hubert crossed the threshold and laid Ferdinand down on the bed. He took the moment to caress his cheek. With a soft, contented sigh Ferdinand leaned into his touch. Warmth bubbled through Hubert’s chest, his face red. 

This concoction was slightly different from the one before. He added additional ingredients, particularly a dose of concentrated oil extracted from a plant; an import from across the sea. Though illegal, it was not terribly hard to procure with the right royal connections and a handful of gold. The flower’s effect on humans when properly used left a person trembling with sexual arousal. It was popular with nobility, a mainstay for orgies. Touted as a mender of loveless marriages. 

Hubert quickly got to work, stripping Ferdinand of his constraining and unnecessary garments. He took a moment to press his nose into Ferdinand’s shirt, breathing in his scent. Each deep breath gave him a high he did not think possible. It was so raw, the smell was devoid of the usual scent of his expensive perfumes and soaps. This was his natural scent, a pheromone that ignited a fire in his loins. His trousers felt tight, and as much as he didn't want to, he had to tear himself away from indulging any further. The night had just begun, and he didn't want to waste another minute of it. 

This time he stripped completely, not wanting to take the time to finish the task as he did before. When they both were finally without clothes he laid down next to Ferdinand on the bed, leaning on his side as he watched the drug take effect. 

Ferdinand's skin was damp with sweat. A blush caressed his body as the aphrodisiac worked its way through his bloodstream. Hubert rested his hand against his love’s neck, feeling his pulse quicken under his fingers. Uneven breaths escaped his lips, and even a gentle feathered touch made his skin prickle with gooseflesh. 

With a frustrated noise, he watched Ferdinand squirm, shifting in his sleep to curl into himself. Even in his unconscious state, the cavalier’s hands found their way between his knees. However, he was unable to properly take hold of himself. Instead, he pressed his hands against his cock as it swelled with sudden and desperate need. 

Unable to keep to himself any longer, Hubert gently pulled Ferdinand’s arms up above his head and pinned his wrists together with one hand. Ferdinand whined, pressing his knees together, desperate to touch himself. Anything to relieve the pain of overwhelming arousal that was taking over his body. 

Hubert drank in the sight, his nerves alight with excitement. Taking pity on the desperate creature he held, he pressed his lips to Ferdinand's temple. He caught his chin in his free hand and tilted his head up to capture him in a hungry kiss. Ferdinand yielded to his demanding mouth, his lips trembling as Hubert’s tongue thoroughly explored and conquered him. 

Minutes passed before he pulled away. 

His lips were swollen from his relentless and abusing kiss, and the sweet keen that his withdrawal elicited from Ferdinand's lips was more beautiful than any song. Satisfied, Hubert released his arms and traveled down the lithe and vulnerable body laid out before him. He peppered kisses down his neck, sliding his hands down his warm back. The touch made Ferdinand arch beautifully, his back lifted off the bed as Hubert ravished his chest and abdomen with softs nips and greedy kisses. 

Once again he found his favorite place to be was between the legs of Ferdinand von Aegir. If he could he would never leave, content to spend the nest of his days nestled between his taut, muscular thighs. Hubert kissed the bow of his sculpted calf, dragging his nails lightly up his thigh. Ferdinand's toes curled as he kissed his way down, licking the soft skin where his thigh met his pelvis. 

Ferdinand quite liked that, it appeared. His legs hooked over Hubert's shoulders and crossed behind his head, trapping Hubert’s head between his thighs. The act sent his already fragile mind reeling. 

Hubert caressed Ferdinand’s thighs as he licked the length of the needy cock before him. A hitched gasp above him let him know the action was well received. He mouthed against his soft skin, kissing the pulsing vein. When his hips bucked under him Hubert stilled them with his hands, gripping him tightly as he wrapped his lips around his sensitive cock. He pressed his tongue flat against his glans, then swirling it around and tasted the bitter precum that was now flowing steadily. The wet sounds of him lapping and suckling Ferdinand's cock was obscene. Sweet, needy moans were drawn from his lips as Hubert mercilessly attacked him, and when he felt Ferdinand's fingers tangle themselves in his hair he couldn't help but moan himself. The vibration of his voice against his member made Ferdinand's grip tighten. 

When he took his cock deeper into his mouth, he felt it pulse against his tongue. Ferdinand came with a strangled cry, his back arched and thighs squeezing him as waves of pleasure left him wrecked and gasping. Hubert felt his cum hit the back of his throat, hot and thick. He resisted the urge to cough, forcing his throat to relax and he swallowed around him. The sensation overwhelmed him, and he moaned as the feeling of Ferdinant coming down his throat was enough to send him over the edge. His body trembled as he came untouched, his cum stained the bedspread beneath him. Barely able to breathe through his nose he felt like he was on the verge of drowning. In the grand scheme of things, it would not be the worst way to die. He imagined his obituary.

“Hubert von Vestra died this day; choking on the cock of the Prime Minister's son.” 

Seconds passed, but they felt like hours. As his orgasm dissipated, Ferdinand was left with the sweet pain of overstimulation. His hips jerked and twisted away, trying to escape Hubert's hungry mouth. He relented, letting his cock slip from his lips. It twitched against his pelvis, and cum dripped from the corner of his mouth. Hubert licked his lips and gently pried himself from between Ferdinand’s thighs. 

With another kiss he coaxed gentle whimpers from Ferdinand. When his eyes brimmed with tears. He kissed them away. Gods, even his tears were delicious. As they lay there together Hubert wrapped his arms around him, tucking his head under his chin as he closed his eyes. Ferdinand's breathing began to slow, his body pressed into him, seeking warmth even in the summer’s heat. He buried his nose into his hair, listening to the soft sounds of his sleeping lover. 

“I love you.” He whispered, as he tenderly ran his fingers through his red, tousled locks. Pleased noises graced his ears, and Ferdinand buried his face closer to Hubert's chest. A familiar ache tore through him. 

Hubert held his almost-lover close, and he tried to ignore the hollow feeling that settled in his chest. 

\---

Ferdinand woke the next morning with heavy limbs, his head aching as sunlight blinded him. With bleary eyes he sat up in bed, a loud yawn escaping him as he stretched his arms. He felt sore all over, no doubt a result of the vigorous training from the day before. With great reluctance, he dragged himself from the comfort of his bed and stood up. The action made his body ache, and he started to regret his new passion for wielding an axe. Perhaps he would leave that to Edelgard after all. 

He only entertained that thought for a moment before he remembered what Hubert had said to him.  
“Best her...if you can.”

Ferdinand von Aegir never backed down from a challenge. Especially one issued by Hubert von Vestra. With renewed determination, he vowed to spend the afternoon once again honing his skill. He would even ask the professor for additional guidance during class. The only way he could get revenge for his humiliation would be to humiliate her in kind. 

That being said, he now regarded the sun that shined through his window. It was much lower in the sky than he thought. He blinked, sleep still tugging his eyes as he leaned against the window sill. At some point, he had stripped completely naked during the night. Apparently the summer heat affected him more often these days. He wondered if he should procure a lighter blanket for this time of the year. He could definitely afford to love a few pillows. 

For a moment he looked out the window, his eyes traveling down to the courtyard below. He watched the students file into the classrooms, his brow furrowing as he wondered why they would be going inside already…

When the realization hit him he loudly cursed himself. He quickly pulled on his uniform, desperate to make it to class before he missed the damn lecture. With frustration, he realized one of his shoes had been kicked underneath the bed. As he crawled underneath it to retrieve it, he paused. There was a kerchief laying there, just a few inches beside his boot. He grabbed it along with his stray footwear and regarded its pattern. It was not one of his. The colors were dull, cold. Uninteresting. 

He felt he recognized it, but tried as he might he couldn't place it. Perhaps one of the maids had dropped it whilst cleaning his rooms? That would be a first. With a small shrug, he pocketed the cloth. Pulled on his boots. The professor might know who it belongs to, he thinks to himself. 

\---

When Ferdinand ran into the classroom, everyone turned to look at him. The professor stopped mid-sentence, watching with unchanged expression. Embarrassed and panting, the young noble took a seat next to Hubert in the back of the room.

Professor Byleth quieted the whispers with a warning throat clear, continuing his lesson on proper strategies to use when fighting someone on a flying mount. Ferdinand’s eyes stayed glued to his desk. He felt like crawling to Abyss, living out the rest of his days with the rats in the sewers.

Furthermore, he was very aware that Huberts' gaze still hadn’t left him. His face burned hot with shame. Why wasn’t he looking away? Surely he didn't mean to scold him while the professor was talking. Even someone like him knew better than that. 

Finally, he could take it no longer. Ferdinand looked up and caught Hubert's gaze, daring him to look away. It was then he realized that he wasn’t quite looking at him, but instead, his eyes were transfixed on the cotton kerchief that peeked out from his breast pocket. 

Hubert caught him following his gaze. The expression on his face was unreadable. He opened his mouth to ask him a question, but not two syllables left him before he heard another pointed clear of his professor's throat. Ferdinand looked up, once again all eyes were on him. 

“Ferdinand, if you could allow me to teach the class in peace I would really appreciate it.” The professor said, tone sarcastic but his face never portraying mirth or agitation. “You can talk with Hubert after we’re done. I promise he’s not going anywhere.” There was a small flicker of a smile across Byleth’s face, and Ferdinand felt his blush creep up his neck and the others giggled at his suffering. 

Even Hubert now turned away from him, and he could swear he saw a blush grace his face as well. It looked so strange on him, but not in a bad way. He would like to see his face better, to catch the great Hubert Von Vestra in the act of showing any emotion besides contempt or occasionally mirth. It was strange for him to want to see that, he realized. 

As he turned his attention to the professor, he felt as if something had changed between him and Hubert. He wasn’t sure what, exactly. But he knew the kerchief in his pocket was a key to finding out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangers are fun, right?
> 
> \---
> 
> The final chapter awaits. As always, kudos and comments are welcome and appreciated.


	3. In All My Dreams I Drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert desperately pieced together an explanation. At least, he attempted to. The lecture aside, he found himself distracted. He was painfully aware of Ferdinand's presence beside him. The floral scent of his cologne was potent. It was exactly the sort of thing that would normally cause him to have a headache. Yet now it smelled divine. And with Ferdinand sitting so, so close... He could imagine how easy it would be to lean over and whisper all sorts of terrible, sinful things in his ear. How would he react? Hubert shook his head. This was not the time to lose himself in his fantasies. 
> 
> He needed more time. Time to cover his tracks and weave a lie believable enough to salvage the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't make up my mind on how to end this! I have ideas for like 3 endings. I decided to publish this as the last chapter and use my other ideas in separate fics. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> The chapter title name is taken from a song in The Devil's Carnival.

It was all starting to unravel. Caught up in last night's reverie, he had left a piece of evidence behind. That damned piece of cloth. Never had he been so careless. 

While the seminar continued, Hubert desperately pieced together an explanation. At least, he attempted to. The lecture aside, he found himself distracted. He was painfully aware of Ferdinand's presence beside him. The floral scent of his cologne was potent. It was exactly the sort of thing that would normally cause him to have a headache. Yet now it smelled divine. And with Ferdinand sitting so, so close... He could imagine how easy it would be to lean over and whisper all sorts of terrible, sinful things in his ear. How would he react? Hubert shook his head. This was not the time to lose himself in his fantasies. 

As the professor started to wrap up his lecture, Hubert began to gather his things. It was rude to appear so eager to leave, and he knew he would be reprimanded later. But he needed more time. The second that the seminar concluded, Ferdinand turned to say something - but Hubert was already out of his seat. Time to cover his tracks and weave a lie believable enough to salvage the situation. Halfway across the courtyard outside the classrooms, he heard Ferdinand call out to him. 

"Hubert, wait for me!" 

The dark mage was rooted to the ground by the sound of his name on those lips. He felt his heartbeat thunder against his breast, threatening to break the skin and fall into his hands for Ferdinand to see. A disgusting, black heart - a wretched organ that delighted in abuse and was eager to betray. Footsteps approached him, and Hubert tucked those thoughts away. 

"Curse your long legs, you move fast…," Ferdinand mumbled under his breath as he stopped in front of him. Hubert turned around and smirked, a mask of normalcy falling into place. 

“Perhaps your inferiority complex stunted your growth?” 

He would distract the cavalier with petty arguments until he forgot whatever he wanted to talk about. 

Or so he hoped. Ferdinand wouldn’t have it. He just laughed dryly, straightening the wrinkled cravat around his neck. No, he would not let the subject be so easily changed.

"You were in an awful hurry just now. What's the rush?" The noble pressed, giving Hubert a small, questioning smile. 

_Think._

Hubert clutched the satchel that hung by his side. The wind was blowing his hair every which way, annoying him when he was already annoyed. He tucked it behind his ear, ignoring the peak of interest that Ferdinand expressed when both of his eyes were properly visible. Was it so strange? 

"I have plans to meet someone. Is there something you needed of me, Ferdinand?" He asked, reluctantly. 

Another smile. "I won't keep you long,” Ferdinand promised as he took the cloth square out of his pocket and held it out for him to see. “I wanted to know if you recognized this?" 

Hubert's eyes traveled to Ferdinand’s hand. Their fingers brushed against each other as he gingerly took the cloth from him. As Hubert turned the kerchief over in his hand he felt those amber eyes studying him. Around them, the sounds of student’s idle chatter started to dissipate as they moved on to their next assignment. 

"I recognize it,” Hubert admitted. “This is mine. I must apologize for staring so intently earlier. I was simply…" he paused, biting the inside of his cheek. "I was surprised that you kept it this long." 

Another lie.

Perplexed, Ferdinand furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side. “Did you loan it to me?" 

“Yes.” _No._ “You recall the night when I had to drag you to bed while you babbled on in your drunken stupor?” _The night I raped you._

Ferdinand's cheeks burned red with embarrassment. Of course, he had remembered. No doubt the man had agonized over it for days after it happened. Poor, despondent child. Hubert wanted to reach out and brush his hand against Ferdinand’s face, to make him blush even more. Maybe later.

Sheepishly, Ferdinand shook his head and admitted, "I confess, I only know what you told me the next day." 

"I thought as much." Hubert’s tone was harsher than he’d intended, and he saw Ferdinand flinch in response.

Hubert shivered. 

_**Yes.** More, more of that. _

Stepping closer, Hubert used his height advantage to loom over the noble von Aegir. It was delightful to see him shrink under his gaze. "You seemed particularly fond of rifling through my pockets. You found my kerchief as I carried you back to your rooms. Now, what was it that you said?” Hubert hummed, thinking. “Ah. That's right. You said it was, I quote; _bland and boring_ \- just like its owner.”

Humiliation washed over Ferdinand as he hid his face with his hands. The man was mortified. It gave Hubert a sick feeling of satisfaction. A long time ago he’d heard Ferdinand say something like that. Not to his face, but when he had thought he was out of earshot. Though at the time it was in reference to something else, something he had long since forgotten. 

“I’m a rude drunk?” Ferdinand asked, absolutely incredulous. 

That made Hubert laugh, his mouth twisting in a grin. “You’re lucky that I have learned to not take comments like that too personally. In any case...” He dismissed him with a wave of his hand, shrugging. “I must have forgotten to take it back from you before I left.” Incredible. The lies came to him easily, it seemed. There was no need to agonize over his aptitude for deceit. With his hand over his chest, he bowed to the future Prime Minister, a mocking gesture. “Thank you for returning it to me.”

Ferdinand didn't admonish him for his exaggerated thanks, nor did he shoot back with a witty retort. Instead, he refused to meet his eyes, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. It was so like him to take the situation seriously. A normal friend, or even an acquaintance, would reassure him kindly that there were no hard feelings. But where is the fun in being “normal”? 

Hubert’s hands came to rest on Ferdinand’s shoulders, thumbs smoothing over the slope where his neck met his shoulders. He felt the man jump and his muscles tense under his fingers. Ferdinand reached out and gently grasped at Hubert's sleeve, looking up at him. 

They were so close. A few breaths away from each other. 

A wicked smile still graced Hubert's face. “Do not worry your pretty head, Ferdinand von Aegir. I’ve dealt with drunks much more troublesome than you. But I knew you would react this way, hence my reluctance to tell you.” Hubert squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. Most people would be put off at this point. But Ferdinand didn't pull away. 

Instead, he...smiled. Not out of discomfort or nervousness, but a genuine smile. That made Huberts' stomach turn. This wasn’t an expected reaction.

Ferdinand's hand clasped Hubert's wrist. His grip wasn’t tight, but Hubert could feel his pulse thrumming against his skin. 

“You've been uncharacteristically forgiving of me as of late, don’t you agree?” Ferdinand said. “You entertained me when I was drunk. Encouraged me... helped me train. Even now, you are standing here with me when you had promised to meet someone else. What did I do to get on your good side?" 

Hubert relaxed his grip on Ferdinand's shoulders, feeling sweat gather on his temple. There was a sudden shift in their dynamic, and it left him feeling both hot and cold at the same time. Alarms were going off in his mind. 

He took a step back.

Ferdinand took a step forward. “Have you perhaps grown to like me, Hubert von Vestra?" The lilt in his voice was so sweet and playful. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had to stop this before it went any further. With a sneer he pried himself away from Ferdinand’s grasp, brushing off his sleeve. “Don’t flatter yourself, von Aegir.” It was for the best. He had to put distance between them. Then he would slowly draw him back in, once this was all but forgotten. Still, an ugly feeling came over him as he heard the words tumble from Ferdinand’s mouth. 

“If we are to properly serve Lady Edelgard” Hubert continued, “it would be beneficial to remain amicable. To have her house minister and the prime minister at odds with each other would only complicate things. To that extent, your presence has been...tolerated.” Bile gathered in the back of his throat as he watched Ferdinand’s expression sour. Oh, that hurt. 

Ferdinand glowered at him, hands balled into fists at his side. “Is that true?” he asked bitterly. Hubert wanted him to scream at him. To hit him with his fists, to leave a scar. Something. Anything but this calm distress. 

Perhaps he just needed another push. Hubert’s face twisted into a scowl. “Of _course_ it is. Did you really think I would like someone like you? Someone who constantly insults Edelgard with petty rivalry? You are full of yourself, obsessed with your delusions of nobility while acting like a spoilt brat.” The hateful words kept coming. He could tell each one cut like a knife. 

After that tirade, Hubert waited for Ferdinand to deliver a scathing rebuttal. A moment passed between them before Ferdinand replied with a quiet, “I see.” His gaze dropped to the grass between them and he ran his hand back through his red hair as the wind started to pick up once more. “You hid your feelings well. I had no idea you despised me so.” 

Fed up with his refusal to fight back, Hubert turned on his heel and walked away. He was unable to look into those eyes any longer. But once he was alone... the terrible and sick feelings could no longer be ignored. He went up to his room and fell heavily onto his bed. He did actually have plans to meet Dorothea for lunch but now his appetite was long gone. Cursing himself, he eventually fell asleep. 

\--- 

Several weeks had passed since their schoolyard altercation. It was no surprise to Hubert that there were no more tea time invitations extended to him. During their weekly chores, the two of them worked in silence, making it almost unbearably awkward. If their eyes met, contact was quickly broken. Within the monastery halls, they passed each other without words and it was easy enough to stay quiet during class. 

The professor was quick to notice their change in behavior. It was during dinner that he brought it up. “Did something happen between you and Ferdinand?” 

Mid-bite, Hubert lowered his spoon and glared at the man sitting across from him. Led by the promise of cabbage and herring stew, he had fallen into a trap. With a frustrated sigh, he pushed his bowl away. Once more, he would go hungry. “While I don't believe it is any of your business…yes. We had an argument.” 

“It must have been quite the argument.” Byleth quirked his eyebrow, a rare moment of expression. It aggravated him. Everything about this teal-haired, fish-faced fool left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Yet for some reason, Edelgard thought the world of him. Refusing to go into any more detail, Hubert took a long drink from his glass. The chatter in the dining hall was growing louder as more people filed in for mealtime. Even though the smell of hot food made his stomach growl, he couldn't bring himself to eat. 

Byleth waited, and when Hubert didn't explain further he looked down as he stirred his stew. With a nonchalance that seemed inhuman, he casually added, “Ferdinand is joining the Golden Deer, starting next month.”

Hubert stood from his seat, his hands hitting the table with a clatter. “ **What?** ” 

The students around them were silenced by his outburst. With a stern look from Byleth they all turned away, awkwardly picking up their conversations again. The professor beckoned Hubert to sit back down. Despite his overwhelming urge to reach over and grab his teacher by the throat and force the information from him, he relented and took his seat. For now, he would live. 

Byleth pursed his lips, then continued. “He approached me last week and told me of his decision. I know you two have been avoiding each other, so I wanted to let you know. In case you wanted to make amends.”

Hubert’s hands curled against the table's surface, his knuckles white as he dug his fingernails into his palms. How _dare_ Ferdinand run away from him? 

Byleth’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “If there is something I can do, I will do my best to help.” In an attempt to comfort him, he reached over to rest his hand over Hubert’s.

Hubert jerked his hand away and gave Byleth a loathsome glare. “I don’t need your help!” Without another word, he gathered his things and stormed out of the hall. 

His blood boiled as he marched across the campus. Any students or church members that had the misfortune of being in his way were roughly pushed aside. He demanded an explanation and he knew exactly where Ferdinand would be. 

\---

At the stables Hubert saw him standing outside his horse’s paddock, brushing her mane with his expensive, whalebone brush. As Hubert rounded the corner, Ferdinand’s face clouded over. 

“Professor said you’re transferring to the Alliance house, is that true?” Hubert demanded as he closed the distance between them. 

Ferdinand stepped back until his back hit the stable’s wall. Trapped. “That’s right,” he said stiffly. 

Hubert's hands hit the wall beside him with a loud slap, his arms encircling Ferdinand. With a low growl, Hubert leaned over him. “That is unacceptable.” He saw Ferdinand tremble but he continued to glare back at him. 

“It’s your behavior, Hubert, that is unacceptable.” 

His retort was firmly ignored. “You would _abandon_ your future emperor to side with that miserable excuse of a house? Was your loyalty so easily swayed by Claude’s charm?” Venom laced his words. With a leer, he grabbed the collar of Ferdinand’s shirt and held him against the wall. Ferdinand grabbed his arm and tried to pull free from his grip but it only made his hold tighter. 

Between clenched teeth Ferdinand seethed, “Let **go** of me.” 

“Tell the professor that you’ve changed your mind.” 

With a scornful laugh, Ferdinand tilted his head back and his teeth bared. “Why do you care! You won’t have to tolerate me anymore, right? I thought you’d be relieved!”

“Shut up!” Like a man possessed, Hubert snarled and slammed his hand against the wall. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

“Why should I stay? Edelgard can do everything better than I can, and you...You don't need a spoiled brat to drag you down.” 

A painful ache seized Hubert’s chest. When his grip loosened, Ferdinand pushed him out of the way, stumbling as he quickly walked away. 

“Ferdinand!” Hubert’s voice was raw with anger as he began to follow him. Two monastery guards approached him, drawn in by the noise. With a bitter taste in his mouth, he stopped his pursuit. Then he saw a glint of metal on the cobbled stone next to his shoe. A key. In the struggle, it must have fallen from Ferdinand's pocket. Quickly, he snatched it from the ground and held it tightly behind his back as the guards approached.

\---

Sleep eluded Hubert. Hours after his questioning he still felt on edge, his nerves on fire as horrible visions plagued his imagination. Why did Ferdinand want to leave? Surely a petty dispute between them wasn’t enough to make his allegiances change. That couldn't be the only reason. There were so many variables to consider. Perhaps he was fed up with being second to Edelgard, or maybe he was promised some sort of political advantage if the Alliance rose to power? 

Frustrated, he turned over in bed, looking at the wall. There was only a room between him and Ferdinand. The knowledge burned in his mind as he thought about the future. A future where he would walk into class and instead of Ferdinand’s familiar face he would see an empty seat. When Hubert closed his eyes, he could see the tear-stained face of a person he cared deeply for. 

When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing outside Ferdinand’s door. As if he was standing outside of himself, he watched as he took a key from his pocket and opened the door. The mechanism opened with an impossibly loud click. 

Silence.

Even with careful steps the wood under his feet would creak and groan. He felt like the noise was amplified; his breathing, the rustle of clothes as he crossed the room, his heartbeat in his chest. His eyes adjusted to dark as rays of moonlight shone through the window. It cast his fierce silhouette against the wall as he crept closer to the bed. Step by step. 

Before him, Ferdinand slept soundly, his hair splayed across the pillow that cradled his head. He was sleeping on his side while hugging a pillow tightly. His legs were drawn up like he was trying to make himself as small as possible on the spacious bed. The gaudy comforter that he despised so much was halfway off the bed from being kicked off during a fitful sleep. 

For a moment Hubert just watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Again, he thought about a life without Ferdinand. If this was to be the last time… Well. Even if Ferdinand didn't remember it, his body would. With new resolve, Hubert reached into his pocket and removed the vial and kerchief. This time he would not make the mistake of leaving it behind. 

The liquid smelled sweet. More alterations had been made to the recipe - this time it was stronger. After thoroughly soaking the cloth in the vial's contents he leaned over Ferdinand's sleeping form. He pressed the damp cloth against Ferdinand’s nose and mouth.

Under his touch, he felt Ferdinand jerk awake. In an instant, his hands quickly grabbed Hubert’s wrist and attempted to pull his arm away. Hubert bit his lip and climbed on top to straddle Ferdinand’s waist. With each frantic gasp, he felt the body under him slowly lose its strength, until his muffled cries stopped altogether and he released his grip on Hubert. The body that was struggling so desperately under him went limp. 

A few moments later Hubert removed the cloth. In the struggle, he had started to get aroused, and when he looked down and saw the man under him blissfully unaware of what had happened to him - he got hard. Without a doubt, he deserved to go to hell - should it exist. But for now, he would indulge his dark perversions one more time. He gently caressed Ferdinand’s cheek, still damp from the noxious cloth. He was incredibly still. With a sense of dread, Hubert leaned down and pressed his ear against Ferdinand’s chest. A cold feeling washed over him but left when he felt the slight rise and fall of his chest. He sighed, relieved. 

This time he didn't have to be careful as he undressed Ferdinand. He roughly pulled Ferdinand to sit up against the headboard, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His slender fingers made quick work of the buttons of Ferdinand’s bedclothes. As he peeled the offending clothing off, the movement made his head fall to the side to expose his neck. Hubert couldn't resist pressing a kiss there. He breathed in his scent and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into his lap... 

Then he opened his mouth and dug his teeth into the soft skin of his shoulder. Ferdinand gasped, a strangled cry leaving him. Against his ear he felt his hot breath, sending shivers down his spine. Hubert pulled away and soothed the red indentations with his tongue. That made Ferdinand moan lightly, and in his sleep, he curled into Hubert's chest. 

He smiled, running his hands through his soft, red hair. “Oh how I’ve missed you…” he murmured as he tangled his fingers into his locks and pulled his hair to tilt his head back. Each hot kiss against his throat made the hunger inside him worse. Once he was satisfied with his markings he pulled away and let Ferdinand lay back on the bed as he relieved him of the rest of his clothing. 

Although Hubert had only kissed him, Ferdinand was responding to his touch. In the dim light, he could see his cock half-hard against his thigh. “You will regret leaving me…” Hubert whispered before taking hold of him. 

With practiced strokes he coaxed Ferdinand to full hardness, relishing every twitch, every gasp, every subtle expression. Ferdinand’s hips rose to follow the pleasure from his hand. He chuckled, feeling his cock twitch against his palm.“Your body will miss me, even if you don’t.”

Just before Ferdinand's cock spilled in his hand, Hubert let him go, watching his tortured expression as his orgasm was cruelly denied. In his frustration, Ferdinand twisted around in his sleep, but Hubert quickly grabbed him by the arms and forced him to lay still. His cock twitched, lying flat against his stomach with precum leaking from its head. 

“So needy... Patience, my love. I will make it worth the wait,” Hubert purred before he kissed Ferdinand's chest, smiling against his skin. 

This time Ferdinand would come by his cock and his cock alone. He would carve himself into his body until his feelings reached his heart. There was preparation to be done. There was something else in his pocket. A small bottle of oil - something confiscated from Sylvain that Setheth had carelessly left sitting on his desk. While he would look forward to extinguishing Sylvain Jose Gautier from this world, he had proven to be useful. 

At first, the oil was cool and slick on his fingers, but it quickly warmed up. Hubert pushed Ferdinand’s legs apart and slowly pressed his finger past the tight ring of muscle around his entrance. He was so tight. Even while unconscious, the invasion drew a soft groan from Ferdinand’s lips. Though Hubert desperately wanted to take him right at that moment, he didn't want to break him. With care, he gently massaged his entrance to get him to relax. 

When he was sufficiently slick and pliant, Hubert added a second finger. He scissored and curled his fingers, slowly moving back and forth to work Ferdinand open. Then he brushed something rounded and firm inside him. The touch made Ferdinand’s hips buck, precum dripping from his cock. Curious, Hubert pressed the pads of his fingers against the spot again. A needy moan escaped Ferdinand, his mouth open and panting. Hubert licked his lips. 

Unable to resist any longer, he withdrew his fingers to untie the cord of his painfully tight sleeping clothes. He turned Ferdinand over onto his knees, his face pressed against the mattress, and his bottom raised like a cat in heat. Hubert dragged his fingers up his thigh, then kneaded his firm ass. After taking a moment to slick himself with the warm oil, he kneeled behind Ferdinand and pushed his cock inside. 

Though he had done his best to prepare him; Ferdinand was tight. His breath hitched, his fingers digging into his hips as he tried to stop himself from coming right there. He breathed slowly, biting his lower lip. The sight below him was gorgeous. How many nights had he imagined this? The son of Ludwig von Aegir gasping under him and taking his throbbing cock.

Desperate to get him to relax, Hubert gently smoothed his hand over his back. He leaned down and kissed the nape of his neck as he whispered sweet nothings. The gentle touches helped, and slowly the body under him relaxed. When Ferdinand was ready Hubert slowly pulled out, then pressed back inside that wet heat. 

Hubert felt Ferdinand shiver under him as he set a slow pace with his thrusts. Ferdinand’s moans were muffled as he buried his face into the mattress as if trying to hide. When Hubert’s cock brushed against that precious bundle of nerves inside him, he’d weakly cry out in pleasure. No symphony or opera could compare to his voice. 

The room felt hot. The wet, obscene sounds of their bodies only served to drive Hubert wild. 

“If your new house leader could see you now, he wouldn't be able to resist either.” Hubert growled, “You would gladly take his cock, wouldn't you?” The thought crossed his mind that maybe he already had. Loyalty matters little when it comes to lust. 

Hubert’s anger only fueled his passion as each heady moan and whimper encouraged him to fuck Ferdinand harder into the bed. Both of them were close. Hubert’s skin was flushed and damp with sweat as he buried his cock deeper, angling his hips to thrust against the place that left Ferdinand gasping. When he felt Ferdinand spasm and tighten around him he could hold back no longer. With a shuddering gasp, he came deep inside, waves of unbridled pleasure coming over him. 

Once the peak of his orgasm faded, he felt his strength begin to leave him. With a small whimper, he pulled out. An impressive amount of come leaked from Ferdinand’s spent hole. It was a beautiful sight to see, flowing down his shivering thighs. 

Exhausted, Hubert ran his hand back through his hair, his chest still heaving. The smell of sex was in the air. While intoxicating, it was impossible for it to be mistaken for anything else. Limbs heavy with post-orgasmic bliss, he dragged himself from the bed and opened the window. A gentle breeze entered the room and the cool air sobered him up. It was time to clean up the mess. 

\---

The dining hall was decorated in beautiful garlands of gold and red. Someone had organized a farewell party for their dear, departing Ferdinand. Attendants dined on sagart and cream served alongside sickeningly sweet buns. Throughout the evening the cavalier was presented with gifts; some sentimental and some practical. Bernadetta tearfully gave him a scarf she had knitted to keep him warm during the oncoming winter. When given a poem penned by the beautiful Dorothea, Ferdinand recited it to the delight of everyone gathered. It even earned a standing ovation, at least from the author. 

Caspar and Linhardt had worked together to earn enough money to buy a new saddle for Ferdinand’s prized mare. That had moved him to tears, and he had to be dragged off of them lest they be suffocated by his hug. Petra presented him with an ornate Dagdan lance. Both of them sparred while their audience cheered, and Ferdinand emerged victoriously. He was adamant that Petra let him win in the end, but she would not speak on the validity of his accusation. She just smiled and hugged him tightly. 

At the end of the night, Professor Byleth gave a toast. Despite his emotionless expression contrasting his words, it was quite heartfelt. Many people found themselves teary-eyed by its end. 

All of this Hubert heard secondhand from Edelgard, who recounted each detail to him as he continued to write at his desk. It was late. Across the room she was sitting on his bed, watching him as he poured himself into his work. He barely gave any indication that he was listening, though in truth he was hanging on every word. 

There was tension between them. It had been building for a while now. For the moment they ignored it, knowing that there would be a time for confrontation later. After the church was dismantled and the status quo rewritten. One day she would ask what had happened, and he would be forced to tell her everything. Until then, she would leave it be.

“You should have attended the party.” Edelgard rose from the bed and walked over to him, her hand resting on his shoulder. The touch was impossibly gentle for someone so strong. For it to be directed toward him felt unearned. Kindness was wasted on him. She continued, her voice soft. “I think it would have meant a lot to him if you were there. Even for just a few minutes.” 

Hubert shrugged her hand off. “I don’t have time for such frivolous nonsense. Preparations must be made before our plan comes to fruition.” In truth, his hand ached from writing. A break would have been welcomed under any other circumstance. To see Ferdinand again would only cause them both pain, he thought. In his ignorance he continued, his venom tongue directed towards her. “I don’t know why you attended, frankly. That traitorous wretch is not worth your time-” 

The sound of her hand striking him rang in his ear. Slowly his hand raised to gently hold his cheek, a red mark appearing on his inflamed skin. Like a wounded animal he looked up at her, his eyes wide in surprise. 

“Do not _lecture_ me on the importance of time, Hubert von Vestra.” Her voice was cold and cut into him like a blade. 

In reverence, he bowed his head, horrified at what he had done. “I...I apologize. Please forgive me, Lady Edelgard,” he whispered, voice wavering. The candlelight flickered in his room from the breeze that entered his window. The night was getting colder and would grow colder still when winter came. 

Her hand touched his head. Preparing for another strike he tightly closed his eyes and cowered. Against all expectations, she ran her fingers through his hair, like a mother soothing a crying child. With a shuddering sigh, he leaned into her touch. 

She cradled his head in her hands and guided him to look up at her. When their eyes met he saw the worry that lined her features. It was an expression that he had seen on Ferdinand’s face many times. It hurt to keep her gaze. 

“You are forgiven.” Edelgard pressed a kiss to his temple. “It’s clear that you are not yourself.” This was a moment Hubert wanted to cling to forever. “Do what you must to get yourself together. I can’t afford to have my retainer so unstable.” 

“Yes, Lady Edelgard. “ He swallowed, wringing his hands as she pulled away from him. When she left the room he leaned his elbows on his desk and covered his face with his hands. Distant voices greeted his ear, and one among them sounded sweeter than the rest. A farewell song. He closed his eyes and listened. 

\---

The war seemed never-ending. With the professor gone, Edelgard closed herself off to her army, all except for Hubert. Her grief was channeled into her work, and Hubert was happy to follow suit. No more celebrations, no more tea times, no more dances. Every day was a fight for their cause. 

Their road was a long and painful one. Each battle against their fellow students seemed to chip away at the Black Eagle’s humanity. The deaths of the men and women they had once called friends broke their spirit until finally there were no more tears to shed. 

But then a miracle happened. When the professor returned, so did their hope. With renewed vigor, Edelgard and Byleth set the course for the final confrontation with Rhea and the Knights of Serios. With bloody hands, they emerged victorious. 

It was not long after that a missive arrived for the new Emperor. A letter of surrender from the remaining Alliance army, soldiers that had retreated after their leader disappeared for parts unknown. Edelgard spent many nights considering their offer. Finally, she gave the royal decree that the remaining forces that wished to join the Empire would be considered for asylum. 

One by one, the survivors arrived at Embarr. Each was read the conditions of their return, and after swearing fealty to the Empire, they were escorted to be assigned a home in the capital. Hubert would not say so, but her compassion was foolish. Welcoming former enemies into their ranks would invite assassination attempts. She had become so soft-hearted after their victory. 

In the throne room, he waited by Edelgard’s side as they awaited the arrival of another prodigal son. It had been a long couple of weeks, but each familiar face that greeted them made her seem more alive, brightening her complexion. It almost made it worth the trouble. 

A guard announced the next in line to enter. “Ferdinand von Aegir has arrived.”

Hubert’s breath caught in his throat. Edelgard straightened up in her seat, her eyes glancing at Hubert. A silent question. _Do you want to be here for this?_

Long ago Hubert had promised himself to tell her all that he had done. In the end, all he could say were a series of half-truths. There were things that he had said and done that had ruined their friendship. It was because of this that Ferdinand had chosen to leave. Though he wanted to avoid this reunion, he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he shook his head. He would stay. With a sigh, Edelgaard nodded, then gave the order to send Ferdinand in.

\--

The man who entered the throne room was almost unrecognizable. Once a picture of health, Ferdinand was a gaunt shell of his former self. Dark circles framed his eyes. His red hair was so long now. It was tied back in a low ponytail that draped over his shoulder. The right coat sleeve of his coat was tied in a knot just under his elbow, where his forearm should have been. The blood drained from Hubert’s face. It was all he could do to stay passively by the emperor’s side. 

Ferdinand stood before the steps that led up to Edgard’s throne then took a knee, bowing his head.

“Rise, General von Aegir.” She commanded. With a half-second of hesitation, Ferdinand did as he was told. When she spoke her words were sharp, echoing against the cold stone walls that surrounded them. 

“Long ago you made the decision to side with the Alliance army. Many of my soldiers lost their lives to your lance. Similarly, you have lost many friends to my axe.” She gripped Aymr in her hands, a pained look crossing her face. Willing her feelings away, she looked down upon him and asked, “Can I trust you not to take vengeance against me?”

Years of fighting had broken the man that stood before them. Gone was his fiery personality and the proud way he carried himself. Instead, Hubert saw a meek creature that had nowhere else to go. A wave of nostalgia came over him as he heard the veteran speak. His voice was lower than he remembered, but it was still so familiar. 

“Your Imperial Majesty. There are no words that can properly express my regret. I have buried friends. Many of them died by my own hand. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. If it would please you to execute me, I would not fight you. However, if you give me the chance, I will devote the rest of my life to pay for my betrayal. I swear, I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust.” Ferdinand’s dull, amber eyes looked unflinchingly back at Edelgard. It was the resolve of a man who had long ago weighed the consequences against his actions. 

A heavy silence hung between them as Edelgard considered him. Finally, she gave him a small smile. “I believe you.” 

Ferdinand closed his eyes with a sigh of relief. 

The Emperor of Fodlan stood from her throne. As she descended down the stairs Hubert opened his mouth to object, but in his wisdom, he held his tongue. She reached the last step and met Ferdinand's bewildered gaze. “I am in the need of a Prime Minister, Ferdinand von Aegir. Will you take your place beside me?” She held out her hand. 

Ferdinands lower lip trembled. He fell to his knees, bowing before her. “I...I would be honored. Thank you, your Imperial Majesty. Thank you.” A sob tore through his chest. “I will not let you down again.”

\---

Once he was composed, the new Prime Minister of the Adrestian Empire left the chamber. When the doors closed shut behind him Hubert spoke. 

“My Emperor, are you quite sure that was wise?” It had been a long time since he last questioned her Imperial Majesty. Her mood was light enough that he felt confident he could risk it. 

She held her axe across her lap as she took her place on the throne. Her look was contemplative, distant. “I have seen too many friends die by my hands, Hubert. I won’t let Ferdinand become one of them.” 

The apprehension melted from his heart. He wanted to cradle her head in his hands, console her like she had done to him years before. It was no longer his place to do so. Perhaps it never was. With a nod of understanding, Hubert prepared to take his leave. 

Before he could go, she called after him. “I am counting on you to guide him as he learns his duties. That is an order.”

He gazed up at her, silently begging her to reconsider. When she did not relent, Hubert conceded and bowed before her. “Yes, my liege.” 

\---  
Until the proper accommodations could be made for Ferdinand to live in the capital, he was granted a room to stay in the palace. The room was an echo of the person who once stayed there. Unfamiliar bed-furnishings surrounded him. Their style was so foreign to him that it felt like a dream. 

He had no belongings with him to put away. Ferdinand took faltering steps across the room, walking to the bathroom that adjoined his quarters. The sound of water filled the room as he filled the tub. With practiced motions he used his arm to pull his shirt up and over his head. It dropped to the ground as he stripped from his threadbare, alliance-appointed uniform. The last remnants of his time as a member of the Golden Deer. 

As he soaked in the warm water he closed his eyes and rested his head against the side of the metal tub. When he dozed he could hear Claude’s voice, commanding him to hide until the war was over. At the time he objected, wanting to follow his commander wherever he was going. But with heartbreaking gentleness, Duke Reigan persuaded him to stay. It was the final order given to him: 

_Survive. Surrender when you can._

Knocking interrupted his bitter dream. With some difficulty Ferdinand climbed out of the tub, his body chilled from soaking in water that had cooled nearly a half-hour ago. The knocking grew louder and desperate. “I’m coming, just- just give me a moment.” He called, pulling a bathrobe around himself. It was a challenge to tie it closed with only the left hand but he managed it. 

His hair was still dripping wet as he padded across the bedroom and opened the door. When he saw who stood there he considered closing it in his face. 

“Good evening, Ferdinand.” The familiar voice greeted him. The years had him a few more inches of height, but the minister still towered over him. Besides his clothing and hairstyle, Hubert was left nearly unchanged by time. 

Ferdinand’s response was sour on his tongue. “Good evening, Minister Vestra.” The bound envelope of documents drew Ferdinand's attention. He nodded down at where Hubert held them at his side, “Those are the cabinet member profiles, I assume?”

Hubert held the parcel in his hands, almost reluctant to give it over to him. “Yes. Additionally, there are documents detailing the current affairs that you should be aware of before addressing the cabinet next month.” The moment of reluctance passed, and he handed it over. 

Ferdinand tucked them under his arm. “Thank you.”

For a moment they both stared at each other. It was Hubert who looked away first. “I will leave you to review that then.” He turned and took a step back out into the hall. Before he could leave, Ferdinand called after him, “Is it the duty of the Minister of the Imperial House to deliver reports?” 

Hubert stood still, frozen in place. Then he turned around, an air of melancholy hanging over him. 

“No. It was my decision to do this.” 

“I see.” There was so much that Ferdinand wanted to say. Most of it would get him executed, he imagined. So he held his tongue, instead opting to give his former classmate a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Well. Thank you for taking the time to do so.” He started to close the door. “If you will excuse me, I have some reading to do.” 

The door stopped suddenly. Behind it Hubert gripped the handle while he braced his body against the heavy wood. Panicking, Ferdinand pushed his shoulder against the other side, feeling the weight press into him. The envelope fell from his grasp, the twine breaking and pages scattering across the floor. 

“I want to speak with you. Please, let me in,” Hubert implored. 

“We’ve _already_ spoken, Hubert,” Ferdinand grunted, digging his shoulder further to try to push the door closed enough to turn the lock. Despite his appearance, Hubert was not one to be easily moved. But neither was Ferdinand. When he had the proper leverage he took a step back then threw his weight against the door, hearing a thud on the other side as he frantically locked the door. 

Behind the door, he heard the shuffle of clothing. Ferdinand swallowed, his hand pressed against the door panels. He closed his eyes, wishing he had ignored Claude’s wishes and followed him across the sea. 

When he felt weight against the door his eyes snapped open, and he prepared for another assault. But it didn't come. Instead, he heard Hubert’s dejected voice plead with him. 

“Please.” The word was muffled and pitiful against the wood. Ferdinand shook his head, stepping away from the door. He grabbed a chair and pushed its back to wedge against the handle.

 _Eventually, he will leave._ Ferdinand reasoned. He slid to the floor and leaned his back against it, his head falling back against the wood. Several minutes passed. 

Hubert did not leave.

With a long, exasperated sigh Ferdinand stood up and slowly turned the lock with a click. The weight left the other side as he opened the door. 

A hopeful, stubborn Hubert von Vestra looked back at him. The blood that was now dried on his forehead made Ferdinand blanch until he realized that his head must have been against the door when he forced it closed. While he felt guilty, he would say that the man deserved it. Begrudgingly, he stepped aside and allowed Hubert to enter. 

Ferdinand straightened his robe and turned away from Hubert as he went to stand by his bedroom window. Below them, the palace was alive with people. It reminded him of a better time. “What is it that you wish to talk about?” he asked coolly. He heard Hubert gather the pages off of the ground, the sound of paper against paper tickling his ear. 

“A great many things.” Hubert set the stack of documents on the dresser, then after a pause, his footsteps disappeared into the bathroom. Ferdinand looked back, befuddled by his departure. When he reappeared with a towel, he knew his expression had softened. Hubert unfolded the heavy cloth. 

“You must be cold. Let me dry your hair.”

Ferdinand scoffed. When the man had the gall to look hurt at his refusal, he rolled his eyes. But Hubert had already broken past one of his defenses tonight. After stepping away from the window and sitting down at the vanity, he waved Hubert to come over. Quickly, before Ferdinand could change his mind, Hubert took his place behind him and wrapped the towel around his hair. Cold water still dripped onto the floor underneath his seat. 

Hubert massaged his scalp, his motion practiced as he gently blotted and squeezed his locks until the water was soaked into the towel. From root to tip, he was gentle and thorough in his work. It was not hard to imagine him doing this for Edelgard. 

A content sigh escaped Ferdinand as he let his head lean into the other’s touch. It felt good. How long had it been since someone else did this for him? Not since he was a child, he imagined. The peaceful calm was interrupted by a question.

“How did you lose your arm?” Hubert asked.

At the mention of it, Ferdinand lifted the limb in question. The scarred stump was hidden from sight by the red sleeves of his robe. At least he wouldn't have to suffer that humiliation. 

“Ah, yes. This is the consequence of raising my lance against the late Felix Hugo Fraldarius.” A dark chuckle reverberated in his chest. “His blade was as sharp as his tongue.”

There was no response. Hubert continued to dry his hair, silent in thought. 

Ferdinand could stand the silence no longer. Earlier Hubert was so adamant- so desperate to speak to him. They were going to talk, even if he had to drag the words out of him.

“It was you who killed him, wasn’t it?” Ferdinand asked. “On the Tailtean Plains.”

“Yes.” The response was immediate. No hesitation.

With a brittle laugh, Ferdinand handed him a brush that rested on the vanity. Hubert took it without question, discarding the towel to detangle his hair. 

“I suppose I should thank you then,” Ferdinand mused, sinking into the pleasant feeling of bristles against his scalp. It was so domestic. If this was how his horses felt when he groomed them, he now knew why they seemed eager to see him. Back when he had horses to care for, that is. 

After he finished combing through Ferdinand’s hair, Hubert set the brush aside and stepped away. Their eyes met in the vanity mirror. 

For a moment it looked like Hubert would speak, but instead, he turned away. “If you have a tie I could-” 

“Why didn’t you kill me at Derdriu, Hubert?”

The question made Hubert’s face pale, as impossible as that was. His eyes were fixed in the middle distance, and Ferdinand knew he had been dreading this moment since he arrived. 

Many, many months ago there was a great battle at the portside city. Ferdinand remembered the devastation as if it happened yesterday. The cries of his brothers- and sisters-in-arms would never leave him. He remembered crawling on his hands as he dragged himself out from under the corpse of his felled steed. His leg was surely broken from the fall. The air was thick with the smell of sea and blood. With their impending defeat at hand, the fight left Ferdinand and he lay there on the cold stone ground. He waited for death. 

And death did come. A dark knight on a black steed entered his vision. For a terrifying moment, he thought the Death Knight had come to take him. Only when the rider dismounted and walked toward him did he properly see their face. 

Hubert’s yellow-green eyes looked down at him as Ferdinand took each ragged breath, sure that it would be his last. When Hubert’s hand raised, glowing with dark, purple magic, Ferdinand closed his eyes and said a prayer for his friends. He would meet them all soon. 

But instead, nothing happened. When he opened his eyes again, the knight was gone.

“I was already half dead when you found me.” Ferdinand stood up and faced him, challenging him to avoid the question. “It would have been easy. Yet you didn’t kill me. I want to know why.”

Hubert bit his lip, his hands balling into first at his sides. “I did not want to,” he admitted.

Ferdinand glared at him. “Perhaps you should have. I think we’d be both better off for it.” That seemed to shock Minister Vestra. But he wasn’t prepared when that shock turned to anger. Hubert grabbed his arm by the wrist, his grip tight. 

“Hubert?” The name barely left Ferdinand’s lips when he was pulled across the room and thrown onto the bed. Before he could yell, a hand clasped tightly over his mouth. Hubert was on top of him, using his free hand to pin Ferdinand’s arm over his head.

“Don’t say that. Don’t **ever** say such a thing again.” Hubert’s chilling tone caused Ferdinand’s heart to skip a beat. Panic must have shown on his face because the expression on Hubert’s softened, and he removed his hand from Ferdinand’s mouth. 

For a moment Ferdinand considered screaming for help… but based on Hubert’s behavior that would only do more harm than good. Besides, who would the palace guards believe? A former Alliance general or the Minister of the Imperial House? Best to stay quiet, for now.

It was clear that his silence unsettled the man on top of him. There was something weighing on his mind. There were words that he wanted to say and for some damned reason, Hubert was too afraid to say them. His inability to convey his feelings normally was maddening. 

Ferdinand opened his mouth to say something, but before he could Hubert interjected, “Do you really want to know why I didn’t kill you?” Ferdinand nodded. “Because… damn it all.” 

Frustrated, Hubert leaned down and kissed him. The shock temporarily immobilized Ferdinand. Hubert was...kissing him? Had he fallen asleep in the bath? When he felt his tongue push into his mouth he knew it was no dream. He struggled to push him off, kicking his legs to try to find some leverage to twist his body and throw him off. Unfortunately, Hubert had the advantage in nearly every possible angle. Weight, height, and strength… It was a losing battle.

The kiss was voracious- never had he experienced something like it. If Ferdinand wasn't so confused, it might have felt good. 

When they had to part to breathe Ferdinand jerked his head to the side and gasped. Cold air filled his lungs. “What are yo-” His train of thought was interrupted by Hubert’s lips kissing down his neck. It all left his mind swimming with questions. Was this real? Did he actually die at some point? If this was a dying dream, was this heaven or hell? For a moment he lay there dazed, unable to comprehend what was happening to him. Somehow...it felt familiar. 

Ferdinand was brought back to the reality of the situation when Hubert started to untie his robe. “H-Hubert! Stop!” 

Instead of stopping Hubert kissed him again. It was time to end this before it escalated further. 

Since Hubert refused to yield, Ferdinand had no choice but to bite down on his tongue. Coppery blood flooded his mouth and Hubert yelped in pain. When he jerked away. it gave Ferdinand enough time to wrench his hand from his grasp and punch him square in the jar. The blow knocked Hubert off the bed. 

“I told you to stop!” Ferdinand panted, his face red.

With a groan Hubert pulled himself off the ground, blood streaming from the corners of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. The blood left his white gloves stained a brilliant red. 

“Why did you… What...?“ Ferdinand's voice trembled. His heart raced as he tried to put the words together. The sting of the punch wouldn’t leave his knuckles. It had been a while since he fought like that.

“I’m sorry. I...I couldn’t control myself.” Hubert avoided his eyes. 

That was the understatement of the century. Such a feeble excuse from someone so clever. Ferdinand rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You seem to have that problem a lot, don’t you?” He got off the bed and fixed his robe, pulling it tightly around him. Returning here was a mistake. 

The sound of footsteps behind him. When he turned around he saw that Hubert had walked to the door. Just when he thought he would finally be left alone, he heard the lock click. His stomach dropped as realization washed over him. 

“Just with you,” Hubert said, his face grave. “My sense of control leaves me only when it comes to you.” 

Ferdinand swallowed thickly. The color drained from his face. In all the battles he’d lived through and all the foes he had faced; none were so terrifying as the man in front of him. Without armor or weapons, he was completely at Hubert’s mercy. Worse, he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to actually kill him. In that respect they were the same, he thought bitterly. Ferdinand backed up against the bedside table. Candlelight flickered as he jostled the brass candelabrum. 

“There was a time when I thought I loved you,” Hubert admitted as he treaded closer, eyes focused on Ferdinand like a predator regarding his prey. It made the hair on the back of his neck raise. Knees weak, Ferdinandleaned his hand back on the table behind him. 

Stopping in front of him, Hubert pulled his bloodied glove from his hand, dropping it to the ground. “Now I realize someone like me is incapable of such pure emotion. A man in love would not crave constant control of the object of their affection. Nor would love drive a man to do such terrible things.” He smiled. The eerie calm that came over him when just minutes before he had nearly assaulted him was frightening. 

“What terrible things?” Ferdinand whispered.

“Shh…” Hubert hushed him as he reached up and pressed his palm against his forehead. “Do not trouble yourself with such things.” 

Dark magic cast Hubert’s hand in a dark glow and Ferdinand’s vision was flooded with black tendrils. His skin burned where Hubert touched him. Thoughts and memories began to fade. A dreamlike feeling surrounded him, and the pain faded into a pleasant numbness. Overwhelmed and dizzy, his knees gave out and he fell unconscious. 

\---

Usually, he was the first to arrive at the monthly cabinet meetings, but to Hubert’s dismay, he found his former professor already seated when he entered the room. He was pouring over a book, with several more stacked beside him. 

Byleth turned and looked up at him as he entered, giving him a nod of recognition before his gaze returned to his task at hand. The silence hung around them like a fog. There weren't many people that could be more impersonalable than he was, but he managed to be one of the few. With a frown, he walked around the table and set down the itinerary for that day's meeting. When he glanced over to see what it was the so-called ‘enlightened one’ was reading, a few words that stood out to him on the page: _Exhaustion, torture,_ and _submission_ to be specific.

Byleth caught him sneaking a peek. 

With an apologetic smile, he stepped back. "My apologies professor. I was simply curious as to what book has captured your attention."

The man stared blankly at him. As a professor, he had acted warmer towards Hubert, but after one too many scathing remarks he simply resigned to apathy. Still, they had to work with each other. 

After a pregnant pause, Byleth responded. "I've been studying interrogation techniques and strategies. There are quite a few spells that have been used in the past. Unfortunately, many were destroyed by the church. A few still remain, as you can surmise.”

Since the war, Byleth had devoted himself to research. Battle strategies and weapon techniques usually, but recently spells had been his topic of choice. If Hanneman were alive, he might have been proud. 

Hubert cleared his throat, curtly nodding. "An interesting topic indeed… What is that you’re reading about now?” Now he was standing beside Byleth’s seat, leaning over his shoulder. Without question, the former professor turned the book so that Hubert could read it properly. As he skimmed the page he felt a familiar rush. 

Not noticing or not caring, Byleth continued to speak. "It's a sleep exhaustion curse. After casting it, the subject will lose the ability to sleep over the course of 3 days. On the 4th day, the mental state of the victim will be to its breaking point. 

"That's… an innovative tactic," Hubert mused. “3 days, you said?”

"Yes. Though it has been ineffective in the past. Usually, the person will knock themselves out before they break. Still, the concept is intriguing. I'd like to avoid physical torture when dealing with captives." 

The man spoke of torture as he spoke of the weather. It was equally impressive as it was unnerving. No wonder Emperor Edelgard wanted him on their side. After returning the book to their resident strategist, Hubert walked back to his seat. He was going over that day's plans when his thoughts were interrupted. 

“That reminds me,” Byleth started as he turned the page, eyes never leaving his book. “Did you test that memory alteration spell?”

With a nod of affirmation, Hubert smiled at Byleth, even if he took no notice of it. “I am pleased to report that after several tests, the experiment was successful. We should be ready to begin the Alliance re-education process soon.” 

“Good. Despite our Emperor's confidence in them, we can’t trust those who have betrayed us once before.” Those cold dark eyes looked up from his book to look at Hubert with approval. 

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the meeting room’s door opening. They both looked up to see Ferdinand enter, wearing his new decadent clothes made especially for him as the new Prime Minister. His red hair was braided and tied back with a black ribbon. His fanciful coat bore the Adrestian coat of arms. It matched the gold and black prosthetic arm that Edelgard had commissioned for him. 

Ferdinand smiled apologetically as he walked in. “I hope I didn't intrude on an important discussion?” 

“Not at all, Prime Minister. We were simply chatting before the meeting.” Hubert stood up and pulled a chair out for him. Ferdinand smiled, blushing slightly as he took the seat. It had been several weeks since he was sworn into office, but he had taken to his role quickly. It was a position he had been practically raised to do, after all. 

Byleth looked at the gold ring on Ferdinand’s left hand. He tilted his head and looked up, “I didn’t know you were married, Ferdinand.” 

A confused expression crossed Ferdinand’s face, but as quickly as it appeared it was gone. He smiled and raised his hand, admiring the blood-red ruby set against brilliant gold. “Engaged, actually,” he admitted shyly. “We intend to announce it to the cabinet today. I may have gotten carried away by wearing it… But it is just so beautiful I couldn’t bear to leave it behind.” 

Beside him, Hubert chuckled. “Indeed it is. Though its beauty pales in comparison to your own.” Under the table, his hand rested on Ferdinand’s thigh. 

A rosy blush covered the Prime Minister's cheeks. Flustered, Ferdinand swatted Hubert’s hand away and gave him a look pleading him not to rile him up in front of their old professor. 

Byleth looked at Hubert in askance, but he didn’t say anything. The Minister to the Imperial Household had committed many questionable and criminal acts. Brainwashing a broken man would be the least of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with the right way to end this story... I hope that despite the pain you enjoyed the ride. Your feedback and kudos are much appreciated. This is the longest fanfiction I’ve ever written, and my last one was years ago. Every comment inspires confidence and will fuel me for future fics to come.
> 
> EDIT: please look at this amazing artwork of Ch. 3 by @sabacastle on twitter! Their Hu/Fe art is amazing ♡
> 
> https://twitter.com/sabacastle/status/1277755512277233666?s=19
> 
> (If anyone knows of any other fanart of this story, I would love to see it!)

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have a sequel, featuring an alternative ending. Check the comments on chapter 3 for more details,, and stay tuned :)


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